


Leave a Message After the Tone

by trichoglossus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Depression, Gen, Grief, Pepper and May need to interact in canon, Pepper is a good mom, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, idk how to tag, loss of a loved one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 18:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18834442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trichoglossus/pseuds/trichoglossus
Summary: ENDGAME SPOILERS“It’s just… I’m really tired. I feel like I can’t sleep, because I have to be out here, in case someone needs me. And… sometimes I don’t want to sleep, anyway. Because… when I close my eyes, I just see you. I see you… out there, on the battlefield. And I don’t want to see you like that. I don’t want to remember you… going. But every time I stop, every time I try to let myself relax, I just see you, and I don’t– I don’t want to. So I… I haven’t been sleeping too much, I guess.”





	Leave a Message After the Tone

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> I've been working on a longer Irondad AU fic, but wanted to write something after Endgame. So here's Peter, "handling" the loss of another parent. 
> 
> I didn't edit this! Let me know if you find typos.

It was late when Spider-Man finally tapped out of patrolling. It had been getting harder and harder for him to call it a night. How could he go home and sleep when every minute he wasn’t watching over the streets could mean people getting hurt, people dying, people never coming home to their families–

So yeah. Maybe he had been spending every waking minute patrolling. Maybe it wasn’t a healthy way of dealing with… what had happened. But he could be handling it worse, right? At least he was getting out of bed – after Ben it had taken him a long time for him to be able to get out of bed willingly. He’d felt bad for making May deal with that. But this was better. Right? This was him… being active, being a person, being a superhero. And if the world didn’t have – some of its heroes anymore, then he had to step up. He had to fill in that empty space. He _had_ to.

Peter sat on a rooftop not too far from his apartment. It wasn’t the same apartment he’d lived in a month ago. Before the Decimation. Before he and May and Ned and half the entire universe had turned to dust. They had been gone for 5 years, apparently. It was still kind of hard for him to wrap his head around that. But it was evident in so many things. So many people had tried to move on – Mr. Stark had. Peter knew that when he met Morgan. And Morgan was amazing, Peter loved her, he wanted to protect her and watch her grow up… but looking at her only made Peter think about what could have been.

Everything had changed so fast for him. For everyone who had disappeared. In the span of five minutes, five years had passed. A lot of his classmates were in their early twenties now. It was almost a relief when he found out that Ned and MJ had disappeared. Peter… wasn’t sure he could handle seeing them five years older than him. So it might have been a bit morbid, but he was glad.

He was also glad that no one seemed to be able to remember disappearing. The few people he’d asked, or who had talked about it on television or in new articles, they said it was like falling asleep in the middle of whatever they’d been doing, and waking up a few minutes later.

Peter hadn’t been so lucky. Maybe it was because of his mutation, because his healing factor had tried _so hard_ to hang on, to keep his atoms stuck together. And he’d tried so hard to hang on to Mr. Stark. And he hadn’t been able to, and now it had been five years since that moment on Titan, and Peter didn’t know what to do with himself.

He felt so alone.

“Karen,” he said, staring up at the night sky.

“Yes, Peter?” Her reply came easily.

“Call Mr. Stark, please?”

“Are you in need of assistance? I am required to remind you that–”

“I know, Karen,” he interrupted quickly. He didn’t want to hear her say it. “Just call him.”

“Sure, Peter.”

The call popped up on Peter’s HUD, and he looked down. Waited.

The line clicked. The first few times he’d called, the noise made his heart pick up. He was used to it by now. It was just the voicemail message starting.

 _“Hey, you’ve reached Tony Stark. If I didn’t answer, I’m probably out saving the world. Again.”_ His voice became muffled as he addressed someone, maybe Pepper. _“Seriously, how many times has it been now? Five? Ten?”_ There were some scuffling noises. Tony’s voice came back. _“Anyway, leave a message. I’ll get back to you. Or maybe I won’t. Toodles!”_ The line clicked again.

Peter had the message memorized by now. Sometimes he called Mr. Stark just to listen to it. But right now – he wanted someone to talk to.

The dial tone went off, telling Peter it was ready to take his voicemail.

Peter sighed.

“Um, hey, Mr. Stark. How are you? Stupid question, I know. I’m just calling to keep you updated. It’s been, uh… 24 days since the battle, now. Since you… yeah.”

He exhaled again, harshly. He didn’t like saying it out loud. It made it seem real. His therapist (yeah, May had made him see a therapist. She and Pepper ganged up on him) said it would take time, and he would have to adjust to his new reality, but Peter didn’t _want_ to adjust. He didn't want to accept this.

“Anyway, um. I just finished up patrol. It wasn’t too bad. Just some robberies, a mugging. People need to see that there’s still heroes out there, you know? They gotta know that we’re still looking out for them, even after… after everything.”

Peter pulled his mask up a bit to rub at his eyes.

“It’s just… I’m really tired. I feel like I can’t sleep, because I _have_ to be out here, in case someone needs me. And… sometimes I don’t want to sleep, anyway. Because… when I close my eyes, I just see you. I see you… out there, on the battlefield. And I don’t want to see you like that. I don’t want to remember you… going. But every time I stop, every time I try to let myself relax, I just see you, and I don’t– I don’t want to. So I… I haven’t been sleeping too much, I guess.”

He takes in a deep breath, trying to center himself, stop his brain from bringing him back to the battle at the Compound.

“But it’s okay, because the less time I spend sleeping, the more time I can spend on patrol. And the more I patrol, the easier it is to fall asleep. Because I can just wear myself out, and then collapse, and I don’t think about things. It’s better.”

He sits for a few moments, silent.

“But I’m… I’m really tired, Mr. Stark. Sometimes… sometimes I just want to sleep forever. I wish I could just close my eyes and sleep and not worry about everything. I wish–”

He covers his eyes, draws his knees up to his chest.

“I miss you, sir.”

He goes silent. The world goes silent.

He’s just sitting. He feels floaty, like he’s not entirely present. Eventually the dial tone sounds again, and the voicemail times out. But he doesn’t move, he stays on the rooftop, staring out at the city but not really seeing.

He thinks he might hear Karen trying to get his attention, but he can’t bring himself to respond. He feels lost, he feels alone, and he’s tired. He vaguely wants to go home to May, but he can’t remember how to get his limbs to respond to his thoughts, so he lets it be and just sits.

It feels like only a few minutes have passed when the sky starts turning light orange. His limbs, cold and sore, tell him otherwise. He can’t bring himself to care.

The thing that jolts him back into place is a sound that he is intricately familiar with, a sound that he did not think he would ever hear again.

He scrambles to his feet as the repulsors turn off and he hears a heavy metal suit hit the ground.

And he stops.

Stares.

The suit in front of him is not bold red and gold, but smooth blue and silver.

Peter curses himself for being so stupid. Of course it wasn’t him. Of _course_ it wasn’t, how could he be so naive– stupid, he’s an idiot–

He is still staring, shellshocked, as the suit in front of him peels back to reveal Pepper Potts. She looks tired, but kind, as she walks towards him slowly.

Peter cannot move.

Pepper stops in front of him.

“Hi, sweetheart. Can I bring you home? May is worried about you.”

He can’t move. His eyes move from Pepper to the suit behind her. To his horror, he feels his eyes start to burn as tears well up behind them. He can’t _believe_ he actually thought Mr. Stark– Tony…

Pepper follows his gaze and understanding floods across her face. “Oh, oh no, honey… I’m so sorry. I didn’t think….” She moves towards him, reaches out. “Can I hug you, Peter?”

He raises his hands to cover his eyes, trying to hide the tears that threaten to escape. But he nods, desperately.

She embraces him, and she is warm, and Peter’s knees give out on him. He collapses to the concrete rooftop, with Pepper’s arms wrapped around him. She follows him down, holding him, and for a moment Peter feels safe. He feels loved.

Pepper brings him back to May’s apartment, and May is waiting for them. There are bags under her eyes, but she looks relieved to see him. She does not comment on how red his eyes are, just holds him tightly. She’s warm, too.

The three of them – Pepper stays, and Peter is tempted to ask about Morgan, to make sure someone is watching her, but he knows Pepper, knows she would never leave Morgan alone – collapse together on the couch, Peter squashed between them in the middle.

Peter is tired, and he thinks that he will be for a while. Maybe the rest of his life. But for now, tucked safely in-between two women who love him and whom he loves back, he thinks – maybe he can rest. Just for a bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if you liked it. Feel free to hit me up on tumblr @trichoglossus!


End file.
